Drabbledygook
by silverlovedragoness
Summary: Short drabbles (based on various characters in HP) I've started writing based on the challenges given to me by Heptagon, hillstar, shadukiam, and Cherie. Currently rated T for language.
1. 1

Dear Viktor,  
I was very glad to receive your letter and Quidditch season schedule. The boys were especially excited about the game in March. I am doing very well, thank you. However, I believe there's been a bit of a misunderstanding.

I was actually wondering if you had any suggestions for very sweet Bulgarian girl names for my daughter (who will be born in a few weeks). I have been asking my friends for suggestions and wanted to include you to have a more diverse option of names. While I am flattered that you would be honored to share your name with my child, I cannot possibly name my daughter after you. You understand, don't you? And Ron would have a fit! Couldn't you imagine how red his face would get? I'm trying to suppress my giggling for fear of waking Ron from his nap.

He's been really involved with George in trying to create new products for the shop, so he's been coming back late recently. Goodness knows he and George won't be able to work after my daughter is born. Ginny's told me it's a hellish zoo to deal with all the constant visitors aching to see the new baby. She had James two years ago, and family members are still constantly dropping by! Of course, you are free to visit us anytime; just send us a quick owl before you come, so we'll know ahead of time.

With best regards,  
Hermione Granger


	2. 2

The tall Seer, clad in a long flowing blouse and skirt, glasses askew atop her head and devoid of her usual beads flicked her wand frantically, whispering, "Let us not tarry, my dears. My Inner Eye tells me that we have a narrow window before those heathenous Carrow siblings come to find you during class."

"Of course, Professor. Where should this go?" asked Parvati Patil. The classroom, empty save for Parvati and Lavender Brown, was in a semblance of chaos that only those present could understand. For months now, the three of them chose to dine in the North Tower classroom for lunch in order to make preparations for the upcoming danger that Professor Trelawney had foreseen. She spoke of terrible people coming, battle scenes that would take place, resounding voices of a few, including He Who Must Not Be Named. Having guided her two mentees for years now, they had been able to see glimpses and signs themselves, within their tea dregs, crystal balls, and even in the stars at night.

And so, they sought their professor out, to do something, rally in some way for the upcoming calamities. Their initial refuge in the North Tower had turned into a sort of rebellion. They began to seek their clairvoyant vibrations and look through the crystal ball to note what sorts of scenes would come to pass. Then they organized and filed them into an outline of sorts. Soon after, the Seer had noticed that Lavender would soon make copies to pass onto Professor McGonagall and instructed her to do so quickly. Once that was finished, they began to charm the items within the classroom, as weapons of self-defense. The crystal balls were duplicated and charmed, the tea cups were sealed with Weasley's Wizarding potion products, and so forth. The Seer had claimed that the battle was to occur within the next week, and so they finished their planning early in order to reorganize and store everything in preparation for the battle.

Once the lunch hour was finished, the girls turned to leave for their next class, ironically, Charms. However, Lavender hesitated before running up to the Seer in order to grasp her hands. "Today will be the last time I see you before the battle, Professor. Thank you for all you have done for me. While I'm in the dungeons for this next week, Neville and I plan to create a few strategies to welcome Harry and help him in his quest. It's a pity we don't know what he needs just yet. Regardless, thank you so much, Professor!" And with that she ran to her next class.

As expected, in the middle of class, the Carrows burst into the classroom, startling Professor Flitwick off of his stack of books as they strode to the center. Lavender braced herself as they called out her name and Neville Longbottom to join them for a bit of show and tell for the younger students. Upon exchanging a nervous glance with Neville, she steeled herself, standing up to follow them out of the room.

Up in the North Tower, Professor Trelawney wiped away a few tears, having just witnessed Lavender Brown's impending death in the battle.


	3. 3

Thanks to hillstar for this challenge. I'm quite pleased with this.

* * *

Hundreds of owls swooped into the Great Hall and began dropping tightly wound scrolls, each sealed with the emblem of the Department of Magical Education. For some, these would decide their careers and future. For others, they would help determine what classes were elected for the next year.

As the chatter had stilled in anticipation of the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s results, the few scattered impatient tears of the scrolls were heard loudly. Among the impatient was Andromeda Black. Pureblood etiquette be damned, she wanted to know how she had faired. As she quickly unrolled the parchment, she let out a whoop of joy, ignoring pointed frowns from her peers at the Slytherin table. Her sister, Cissy, coughed politely next to her, subtly asking to see her results.

Standing up, she performed a quick geminio spell and handed the copy to her sister, squeezing her hand before whirling around to gracefully skip to the Ravenclaw table.

She reached just in time to see her boyfriend look up from his own result, face broadening with a grin. Though more reserved in mannerisms than she, he still managed to stumble over the bench in his haste to envelope her smaller frame. She laughed and squeezed back until he let go and grabbed her wrist, quickly leading her out of the Great Hall.

Upon reaching the bronze eagle-shaped knocker, they waited for the riddle: "A five lettered word, I'm used to make bread. Remove one letter, and I'll burn you instead. Remove two, and do this to your stew. Mix that around, and a good drink we will brew."

Andromeda glanced at Ted, trying to calm her breathing so she could think; he winked at her and nodded for her to speak. After a moment, she simply uttered "Wheat," and the portrait swung open. From there, Ted led her over to the large stained glass window pocketed behind the expansive bookshelf.

Reaching into his cloak, he pulled out a small box as he kneeled on both knees in front of her. As he opened the box, showing her a simple golden band engraved with thin 8-pointed stars, she immediately gasped out a "Yes, Merlin-yes!"

He chuckled at her haste, but his eyes twinkled as he stood up and carefully took out the ring to encase her ring finger. "Dromeda, you've stolen my thunder!" he teased lovingly and once again embraced her fully.

In that intimacy, he spoke into her ear, "Dromeda, for years I've been in love with you. Of course, the clever you noticed how head-over-heels in love with you I was and gracefully accepted me for who I am, heritage and all. Despite everything, you've been braver and more accepting than anyone I know. Words really can't describe how grateful I am to you, especially rejecting the age old House of Black traditions. Ever since we became steady, I've studied harder than I thought possible; I wrote my N.E.W.T.s in anticipation of this moment. You mean the world to me and for that I wanted to give you everything I could. With my results, I can proudly say I've been accepted as an apprentice to be a Curse-breaker. I'll have a steady job, and can provide for you, no matter what your family might say. Thank you for trusting in me, love."

And in that moment, all she could respond with was a muffled, "I love you too, Ted! So, so much!"


	4. 4

Thanks again to Heptagon for inspiring this slightly more pensive piece.

* * *

Three witches walked into a bar on a rainy Friday night. One, her black bobcut swaying gently, had her hands on her companions' backs, almost forcing them towards the corner booth. She appeared to coax the two to sit across from each other before turning towards the main bar where she sat down on an empty barstool and began to chat with the burly, scruffy redheaded bartender.

Meanwhile, the two other witches faced each other off with surly faces. The one with wild chestnut curls diplomatically confronted her opponent, "Since a condition for tonight is that we _must_ drink, once we get our drinks, we'll both take a shot and then apologize at the same time."

The wavy reddish-blonde haired witch appraised her skeptically, turning towards the bar in search of her friend. When, instead, a short wizard came by holding two shotglasses of green-flaming soju as well as a bottle of Ogden's finest rum, she reluctantly consented.

They accepted their drinks with their right hand, steadying themselves with the implication of their actions and the night to come. The wizard took his time arranging the Odgin's and two rows of three shot-glasses on the table, waiting eagerly to see if a spectacle would become of the palpable tension.

The witches eyed each other and nodded before swinging up the licks of fire to their lips. The auburn haired witch slurped the soju rapidly, trying to keep her face neutral. On the other side, the chestnut curls whipped back as she threw back her shot, making a face. Once they had finished, they found each other's eyes and blurted out a hasty, "Sorry," each trying to be first.

Suddenly, the black haired witch swung around the wizard, shoving him away. She enthusiastically challenged, "Right then, drink up and apologize three times again! This time like you mean it" while pouring Ogden's into the two sets of three glasses. She pointedly ignored the glares her auburn haired best friend was giving her, "On your marks, get ready, go!"

Immediately, the two in the booth hissed as they began their game of outshining the other.

Within seconds, both had exclaimed their first apology. However, their mediator only scowled.

Guiltily, the brunette witch threw back a second shot just as quickly and muttered a second, more subdued apology; the auburn haired witch hesitated, before practically inhaling her shot, "Granger, I _am_ sorry."

By this time, neither noticed their friend triumphantly walking back to chat with her bartender friend.

Upon gulping down the third shot, Hermione Granger apologetically admitted, "I know. It was rather nasty of me not to remove the curse earlier. I'm sorry for that. You suffered more than your due."

Shaking her head, the auburn haired Marietta Edgecombe threw back her last shot and then grasped Hermione's hands, pleading, "I betrayed you, _all_ of you, to Umbridge. You could've gotten expelled. Looking back, you could've gotten killed. Hindsight is always 20/20, but I knew at least some of the repercussions of betrayal and did it anyways. But you have to believe I regretted it the moment they bombarded the Room!"

Pulling away, Hermione instead stood up unsteadily to approach Marietta's side to engulf her. "We're both sorry, and thanks to Cho, we both know better now. We're alright, aren't we?"

Marietta nodded feebly, too overcome with emotion from this burden finally being relieved.


	5. 5

Thanks again to Heptagon for the challenge. :)

* * *

Hankerton Humble had finally decided. He wanted to confess his feelings to the one he loved. The one he had loved for ages now. He had glimpsed her many times over the years, in the corridors, walking along the Great Lake, edging into the wooded covering, before it became forbidden, among other places. Having found her biting wit just as alluring as her pretty face, he'd linger just a little anytime he had the pleasure of hearing her speak. He had been crushed when she had graduated and left while he had to stay behind. Heartbroken when he heard of her running off to Albania. But that was then. Now, he had resolved to approach her. There really was nothing to lose. _They were already dead anyhow._

He floated towards her as she exited the library corridor, intercepting her before her turn led her away from him.

"Please Miss Helena, would you do me the honor of accompanying me on the Great Hall balcony today evening?"

"And to what would I owe this pleasure, Sir Humble?" she replied cordially, almost shyly.

"Well, I am not so eloquent as you, but I would like to accompany you, to—what do they call it these days—chat? Sorry, that was terribly impolite of me; I wish to tell you something important."

Helena Ravenclaw hid her smile as she acquiesced to meet him after the post-match feast. As much as she held a thirst for knowledge, she was not single-minded in her pursuit. She happened to have it on good authority, from many a student—from her time to the present—who had witnessed the way Sir Humble looked at her, lingered at her words, and so on, that he would likely confess. And what better place than the Great Hall balcony? Away from prying eyes, she allowed her semitransparent cheeks to take a slightly greyer hue in her anticipation.


	6. 6

Thanks to Shadukiam (author of The Alkahest! go check it out!) for this challenge! Was a fun piece to write about.

* * *

As the remnants of the breakfast display were beginning to disappear, a hint to students to begin their trek to their prospective classrooms, Neville Longbottom hastily scooped up the last of his black pudding. His gray blue eyes were fixed on the palm of his hand, where he had hastily scrawled a few questions: "I'd like a word please, if you will?" "You know I'm hopeless with my feet; would you mind practicing with me for the ball?" "Can you help me with my dance form?" (this had been hastily struck through), and finally "Will you go to the ball with me?"

Taking a final gulp of the now tepid tea, he stood up, almost tripping over his bag in his preoccupation. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he climbed over the bench and walked a few steps to the only girl in the school with brilliantly red hair. Tapping Ginny Weasley on the shoulder, he whispered, "I-I'd like a word please, if you will?"

She nodded in agreement and gathered her belongings to follow him outside the Great Hall, where less prying eyes could vulture upon his potential embarrassment. "Neville, what is it? Have the boys said or done something stupid again?"

He hastily shook his head, "Oh nothing of that sort this time, thankfully. Kind of you to ask." Somewhat sheepishly, he brought his hand up to scratch his head, cheating a chance at his palm for a few seconds.

"Oh, that's good then. So, what is it?" Her concern was beginning to rise with his continued silence. He'd always been a nervous and shy boy around others, but seemed to feel comfortable around her enough that he let down his barriers. She was grateful he felt that way, as she'd seen quite a brave and humorous side to him, she was sure others didn't know about. It was her secret to know and keep. And yet, he appeared rather nervous about something. She placed a hand on her arm, as his own seemed intent on pulling out his front hairs at this rate.

"Err, right. Well...So..." He took a deep calming breath as he realized her hand was on his arm. "Alright, so you know I'm hopelessly clumsy, and terrible with my feet. Do you think-er, do you-sorry, would you mind practicing with me for the ball? Y'know, ball-dancing? And if I shape up alright, would you mind going with me? To the ball that is." By this point his ears and cheeks were beginning to turn a motley pinks. Even so, they could never compare to the shade her ears had taken just then.

"Wow! That's really sweet of you, Neville. I-I thought only fourth years and above were allowed to go?"

His face started to droop ever so slightly even as his voice took on a more earnest tone, "Well, that is true, but I'm sure we're allowed to ask anyone, so long as at least one of the couple, er, pair, is a fourth year or above."

Ginny collected herself a bit while he rambled, but her excitement was tangible as she responded, "Well, in that case, I'd be happy to go with you! And certainly, we can practice as much as our schedules allow. No Quidditch practice this year, so I'm rather free, apart from scrolls for Snape and Moody, really."

Neville's face morphed from wistful, to relief, to nervous anticipation, all in a matter of seconds. "Tha-That's brilliant, Ginny! Thanks for agreeing! I know you'll be brilliant, and hopefully I'll retain what I learn from you." They both started walking towards the entrance; Neville had Care of Magical Creatures, while Ginny had Herbology. "'course, at least it isn't on a broom, or I'd be doomed before I start."

Eyes twinkling, Ginny laughed as she teased, "Oh Neville, with a witch like me on a broom, you'd have no chance to fail. If you want, I can teach you flying as well. Merlin's honor, I won't let you fall or fail."

Eyebrows above his hairline, Neville silently screamed in mock horror, "Err, let's do the dancing first before you decide on that challenge."


	7. 7

Thank you to Cherie for the inspiration or shall I say challenge of this one.

* * *

Early Sunday mornings were ideal for relaxing in one's own skin. With barely any students moving around, wishing to sleep in one more time before classes were back on schedule, it was easy to move around fairly freely, even without the magical eye he had become accustomed to of late.

While he could already generally predict the schedules of his fellow staff members who all seemed rather set in their habits, the stroke of luck that led to him obtaining the map meant that Sunday mornings became even more of an easy luxury. No one who could recognize him personally would be out and about.

After inspecting the map for discrepancies, he made his way to the Quidditch grounds. As expected, she was there, the lone figure who seemed to share the same habit. Sunday mornings at Hogwarts were made for honing Quidditch skills. They were both lucky the grounds had not yet been closed to grow the maze. He knew his days of leisure and simple enjoyment were limited as the third task slowly approached.

It was a pity there were no Quidditch games to be held this year. Though the main reason he was even able to come back to Hogwarts at all, the Triwizard Tournament effectively decimated any chance he had had of enjoying his one pleasure outside following and serving the Dark Lord. And of course, Potter had ruined the Quidditch World Cup by sitting so close it took all his efforts not to grab him then and there. All of this meant that Sunday mornings observing Ginny Weasley practice her flying and Chaser skills were the only escape Barty Crouch Jr. had in his true form.

Nowadays he stuck to the shadows of the Quidditch pitch, choosing not to draw attention to himself and relishing in the morning chill. The two different times he had attempted to give pointers to her, as was his old habit on the Ravenclaw team, had resulted in misunderstandings as he was a stranger to her. After some quick and effective wandwork by a weary Weasley, he had had to reverse the effects wandlessly, while simultaneously defending himself, and then subsequently Obliviate her, something he had disliked having to do on his precious Sunday morning.

Today's focus seemed to be about not only getting the Quaffle through the hoop but following closely enough to catch it as it passed through the hoop in order to create better opportunities for future points. Though not the first time he had seen this tactic in action, he was impressed how quickly she was able to follow through and feint throws to the imaginary teammates. Within five repetitions she had gone from just attempting the skill to mastery and challenge the distance she threw the Quaffle.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hagrid's dog run out from the cabin; this was his cue to leave and revert back to Mad-Eye Moody once more. Briefly looking back at the Quidditch pitch to see that she was otherwise occupied with distance throws, he stood slowly and then slunk back into the halls before he was discovered.


End file.
